


Sweetener

by General_Button



Series: Sugar Daddy AU [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Daddy Kink, Gift Giving, M/M, Praise Kink, Sugar Daddy, Sugar Daddy Sendak, bottom!shiro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-02 02:51:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16296872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/General_Button/pseuds/General_Button
Summary: Sendak just wants to spoil Shiro, but Shiro has difficulty understanding his own feelings.





	1. Sugar

**Author's Note:**

> I'm hoping I've found the right balance of Sendak being nice without being too ooc. Love you all!!!! Hope you enjoy!!

The morning after staying with Sendak, he made Shiro a breakfast worthy of ten of him. He went through an entire carton of eggs that produced four hefty omelets filled to the brim with different ingredients. Alongside that had been a pitcher of water, orange juice (apparently Sendak liked the taste), and freshly ground coffee for Shiro’s choosing.

Shiro had been a little overwhelmed by the array of food and drink and had barely touched a meaty omelet before he had to get going to work.

The morning commute was usually what took the longest when heading in to work, but with how close Sendak was to the downtown area, he was twenty minutes early.

They spent that entire twenty minutes making out in Sendak’s car. By the time Allura’s father Alfor opened up shop, Shiro’s hair was mussed and his clothes were in complete disarray.

Shiro had been so distracted by kissing Sendak that he didn’t even notice it was time for him to leave; a knock on their window was what alerted them to the time, and when Shiro opened it, he was mortified to find that it was Hunk staring them down, mistaking them for a rowdy couple loitering in front of the shop.

Shiro was just relieved that Hunk had taken it well. He had been out of the loop in the last few days, and Shiro’s concerns had been alleviated when Hunk made it clear he didn’t mind that he was sitting in the lap of a big, handsome galra that he’d never seen before. One that started _growling_ the moment Shiro opened the door, further compounding his embarrassment.

After spending a few minutes frantically smoothing his hands over his hair and clothes, Shiro went to work.

An hour later, Sendak asked him on a second date. Shiro had to tamp down on the urge to immediately agree.

Once he got past his prickly exterior, Shiro found the soft interior to be incredibly satisfying for what he was looking for in a partner, and Sendak had proven himself to be charming where it counted. That being said, it was one date and one night. That wasn’t enough on which to found a good relationship, so Shiro contemplated the course of action he was going to take while he worked.

It was just difficult to focus when Lance wouldn’t stop prodding him about his date and the fact that he’d spent the night at his penthouse.

“Was it nice?” he asked, for the thousandth time. “Does he have a library full of expensive college textbooks? Because I could use some of those.”

Shiro chuckled, pausing from where he’d been picking up a fresh pastry from Hunk’s newest batch. “College textbooks? I don’t know about that. Yes, it was nice, and no, I’m not going to tell you about it.”

“Party pooper,” Lance said. He nabbed Shiro’s pastry and popped the end into his mouth, stopping to chew. With his mouth occupied, Shiro had a chance to start getting actual work done, like preparing for the customers that were about to flood the place.

“But you did have fun, right?” Keith said. He stepped out of Hunk’s way when he walked around him, wiping his hands on his apron.

“Who’s having fun?” Hunk asked.

“Shiro,” Lance replied. “We’re talking about the guy he went out with last night.”

“Oh.” Hunk looked at him. “That was the same guy you were making out with in the car, right?”

“You were _what?”_ Lance practically shrieked. Shiro sighed.

“He dropped me off. It’s not a big deal.”

“What about your car?” Keith asked. “Did you leave that at a restaurant? You said you met him there.”

“I…did.” Talking about how irresponsible he had been was hardly enjoyable, and neither was the look that his coworkers gave him in learning he’d abandoned his vehicle to spend the night with a veritable stranger, but Shiro wasn’t going to lie about it. “I shouldn’t have, I know. But I did. He’s taking me to pick it up later.”

“Well, he seems okay,” Keith said. He sniffed at the air briefly. “Doesn’t smell like a bad guy. I hate that cologne, though.”

“Who cares about the cologne! Tell us how the date went!”

Shiro ended up giving them the details of the date, although he left out the part where they left the restaurant early so they could fuck at his penthouse.

By the end of his shift, he realized he hadn’t made his decision, and wavered on whether to text Sendak back for the hell of it.

As much as he liked him, he didn’t want to commit to another date until he was absolutely sure. He’d made the mistake of having sex on the first date already—not that the sex was the mistake, but rather Shiro’s own refusal to do anything in a logical and safe manner—and he wasn’t going to be so careless in the future.

* * *

A few days after he gave Sendak the best reply someone in his position could have given—a long text about needing time to consider it—Shiro was woken up by the doorbell to his apartment complex ringing loudly.

Or, more accurately, he was woken up by Matt.

“Who the _fuck_ is at our door?” he shouted, loud enough to drag Shiro out of his well-deserved sleep. He sat up in bed, blinking blearily at the clock. It was a about half an hour earlier than when Shiro had to go to work, and so he had zero clue who might at their door at this time aside from a serial killer.

“Don’t even have pants on.” There was a shuffling sound, and then a thump. _“Assholes.”_

The walls to their apartment were thin. Usually both Matt and Shiro did their best not to cause too much of a ruckus for one another thanks to their differing work (and sleep) schedules, but on occasions like this, Shiro was treated to one of Matt’s morning ritual swears. He was a nice guy with a heart of gold, but if he didn’t get his beauty sleep, he was notoriously cranky.

Shiro scrubbed his hand over his face and glanced at the doorway, waiting to see if there were any more sounds. Like gunshots. Or chainsaws being revved. However, the only sound was the door opening, and the quiet drone of an unfamiliar voice. Deciding that if Matt was going to take care of it, then he didn’t need to get up, Shiro made the executive decision and laid back down. He was about to fall asleep when he heard Matt raise his voice.

“Dude, for the last time, I didn’t order any flowers! It’s five in the morning!”

Shiro’s eyes snapped open. He didn’t know what possessed his brain and made the connection that the flowers were somehow of tantamount importance, but he was moving before it had caught up with him, scrambling towards the door and bursting out into the hallway.

He found Matt leaning against the door to the entrance of their apartment, looking pissed. The poor delivery person—a tall, slender galra—looked irritated, clutching a huge bouquet of roses that was half the size of his body.

“Shiro!” Matt called. “Can you tell this guy to get out of here? He keeps asking for somebody named Takashi.”

“Matt.” Shiro sighed, dragging his hand down his face. “That’s _my_ name.”

Matt blinked at him. “Huh. Right. I forgot, because you go by Shiro. And because it’s five in the fucking morning.” He waved his hand wildly at the galra. “Why did you order flowers this early?”

“I didn’t.” Shiro walked up to the doorway and shot the galra an apologetic look. “Are you sure it’s the right Takashi? I didn’t order any flowers.”

“Takashi Shirogane?” he said, sounding very tired. “Sendak sends his regards. These are for you.”

At the name, Shiro straightened, but before he could make any moves the galra had shoved the bouquet in Shiro’s arms and then disappeared from view.

“Wait, did you say Sendak? But why…” Shiro trailed off, looking down at the bouquet of roses. They smelled delightful and fresh, as if they’d just been plucked from the garden.

When he looked up, the galra was lugging another bouquet into the doorway.

And then another. And _another._

Within minutes, the hallway was filled to the brim with hundreds of roses. Shiro gaped openly at the display, not entirely sure this wasn’t an elaborate dream. The only reason he knew it was reality was because Matt was standing there, looking just as surprised as Shiro.

Once the last of the roses had been set inside, the galra stood there waiting, clearly expecting some kind of response.

Shiro shifted the bouquet in his arms to touch one of the roses, just to be certain they were real. The petal curled around his finger, velvety soft in the way that only a real flower could be. They were a gorgeous, deep red and the _smell_ …

A flash of white caught his eye. Shiro set down the bouquet and then reached out, picking up the card that was sticking out of one of the other ones. On the front was his name, scrawled in an elegant print, and on the inside was a message.

 _Shiro,_ it read, _I was thinking about you last night. I can’t stop thinking about you. Your taste. Your smell. I know that you said you needed time, and I do not presume to know your feelings, but I know mine. I have considered the ways in which I can express how much I would like to court you, and I decided that a traditional Earth-declaration would be fitting. I wanted you to enjoy them before going in to work, and so I apologize if I woke you. Haxus is my assistant and if you have anything else you require he is at your disposal._

“Wow,” Matt said from over his shoulder. He didn’t bother to pretend he hadn’t been reading the card along with him. “This is that boyfriend you mentioned having?”

“I—he’s not my boyfriend. We’ve only been on one date.” Shiro covered with his mouth with his hand. “There are so many. Oh my god.”

Shiro glanced down at the sea of red. He could feel his cheeks going hot, his heart swelling, too full in his chest. Had he not been thinking about Sendak in much the same way, he might have felt uneasy about such a grand gesture, but Sendak had given him all the space he needed so far, never pushing him; and this didn’t feel like a push. It felt like Sendak was just expressing himself the way he thought best.

It helped that this was the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for him.

He dialed Sendak’s number, bouncing on the balls of his feet while he waited for him to answer. After a few seconds, the ringing stopped, and Sendak’s voice filtered through.

 _“Shiro.”_   He sounded tremendously pleased. _“I was not expecting a call. Did you receive my gift?”_

“Sendak!” Shiro all but squealed. It was a little embarrassing; Matt was giving him a funny look. “They’re so beautiful. Sendak, you—you didn’t have to. I don’t know what to say.”

 _“Then you like them. Good. Very good.”_ Shiro felt warmed by his tone. “ _I wanted to give them to you. It is of no consequence to me.”_

“They must have been so expensive,” Shiro said, ignoring his words. He pulled out and rose and lifted it to his nose, inhaling the evocative fragrance. It was sweet, almost fruity. “I _love_ roses. Thank you so much. This is…you didn’t have to do this. Thank you.”

He was gushing, overwhelmed, so happy and pleased he didn’t know what to do with himself other than run his fingers through his hair obsessively, repeating the same things. Matt had stopped observing Shiro lose it over his expensive gift and had started hauling the roses into the living room with Haxus’ help. Shiro watched them, amazed at the way they filled up the space.

 _“You seem to be under a misconception, Shiro. I did not have to do it. I_ wanted _to. You are wonderful, and you deserve at least this simple token of my affection.”_

Shiro’s throat felt like it was glued shut. He wasn’t sure he could speak, or he was going to start crying.

 _Why?_ he wanted to ask. He felt suddenly, inexplicably afraid of the answer Sendak might give. He could almost hear Sendak speaking, saying the words Shiro couldn’t stop thinking about.

_Good boy._

“I’m going to be late for work now trying to move all these,” he said, a weak attempt at a joke. He heard Sendak’s breath ghost over the receiver and suddenly wished he was there so he could at least thank him properly.

_“Make certain Haxus is helping you.”_

“He is. You didn’t have to send your assistant. You didn’t—” He stopped himself from repeating it again. “I feel like you’ve earned that second date. And it’s not even my birthday,” he joked.

There was a pregnant pause.

_“I seem to recall that humans place special significance on their births. I will have to add it to my calendar.”_

To save himself from even considering what that might entail, Shiro told him he had to get ready for work. Then he hung up, staring at the roses a while longer before dragging himself back into his room to start the day.

* * *

In the weeks that followed, they went on more dates. Sendak took him out to nice restaurants, but they were never too over the top, which Shiro appreciated. He was considerate, but far from cautious, treating Shiro better than he’d been treated since his last long-time boyfriend.

They were supposed to be taking it slower than the first date had gone, but with Sendak, that felt like an impossible feat. He was devastatingly handsome, and Shiro had shown he was weak to his charms.

He moaned around his full mouth, closing his eyes as Sendak pushed his cock deeper.

The date had been one of the milder ones, despite the way it was ending. They went out for ice cream at Shiro’s favorite place. Sendak had never had it before, and he looked out of place standing dressed in his designer clothes in a tiny mom-and-pop shop that was mostly frequented by humans.

Watching Sendak eat ice cream had been at once a hilarious and satisfying experience. He didn’t lick it like a cat, which was both disappointing and relieving, but the cold appeared to bother him. His face would screw and twist, which was more expressive than Shiro had ever seen him. The galra’s genetics didn’t give them much in the way of expressing themselves through their faces, Shiro had learned.

Then, as Shiro starting lick at his cone, Sendak had gotten distracted, one thing led to another, and they’d hurried back to Sendak’s place so they could divulge in private.

Shiro had barely waited for Sendak to enter in the code to his penthouse before he was dropping to his knees, fingers prying at his belt.

“Look at you,” Sendak rumbled, cupping the back of Shiro’s head. “You take it so well. How far are you willing to go?”

Shiro sucked him deeper into his mouth to demonstrate, about halfway down Sendak’s cock. He resisted the urge to swallow the saliva collecting in his mouth and started bobbing his head.

Sendak breathed out roughly, curling his fingers in Shiro’s hair. He could feel the tips of his claws tickling the back of his skull, following his hairline to the shell of his ear.

While he moved over his cock, Shiro reached up with one hand and fondled his balls. They were lightly furred and soft, and he enjoyed the weight in his hand. He’d always had a thing for guys with a big package, and Sendak’s were huge. The more that he played with them, and the longer he kept Sendak in his mouth, the tighter they drew, until he was positive Sendak was getting close.

Shiro took Sendak as far as he dared, blinking past the sting in his eye as Sendak’s cock filled his mouth and throat completely.

“Very good,” Sendak grunted, stroking the top of his head. “You are so very good, Shiro.”

Shiro shivered, his mind going blank at the praise, his body heating up with a suddenness that was alarming. He barely registered Sendak telling him he was going to come; it wasn’t until he forcefully pulled out that Shiro opened his eyes, watching as the fat drops of precome oozed and dripped down the length.

His mouth watered. Shiro really didn’t understand why he’d stopped him. He was so _close,_ and it looked painful.

 _I can be good,_ he thought, nearly voicing it, stopping himself just in time. _I’ll make it so good for you._

Ignoring Sendak’s warning, Shiro took the head into his mouth and wrapped his hand around the knot, squeezing.

“Very well, if you are so _eager,”_ Sendak said, a low growl working up his throat. He snapped his hips and shoved his cock into Shiro’s mouth as he came.

Shiro swallowed some of it, but he understood immediately why Sendak had tried to stop him. The texture was incredibly unpleasant, like thick paste, so after a few seconds he pulled his mouth off his cock, watching as the rest spurted over his hands and fingers and onto the floor.

While Sendak came, Shiro kept his hand wrapped tight around the knot. He enjoyed the pressure of Shiro’s hand more than his own, if the sounds coming out of his mouth were any indication.

Once he stopped coming, Shiro released his hand, waving it to work out the kink. Then he gazed up at Sendak, meeting his eyes.

 _Tell me I was good,_ he thought, his head spinning with how much he wanted him to say it. He could imagine the words coming out of Sendak’s mouth, smooth and so very sweet.

_Good boy._

“Come here,” Sendak said instead. “I will pleasure you.”

* * *

Before Shiro knew what was happening, it was mid-October, and they had been dating for almost a month.

Shockingly, or perhaps not so, things were great. Better than great, they were _amazing._ But they hadn’t been able to see each other as of late.

Shiro was having car trouble, so he wasn’t able to make it to his penthouse unless he wanted to take the bus, but since he had to get up even earlier to make the bus while his car was being fixed, he was usually tired by the end of his shift and didn’t feel up to the long and arduous ride that was public transit.

Further, Sendak was a busy man. He would visit Shiro’s workplace if he had the time, but he was most often occupied until late in the evening.

“What do you actually do?” Shiro had asked him one night, laying against his chest in bed. He stroked his fur against the grain before flattening it back down. He enjoyed the motion, and Sendak didn’t seem to mind. He let out the occasional rumble, but let Shiro have his fun, placated as long as Shiro was pressed against the firm length of his body or wrapped up in his arms.

They’d been resting there in comfortable silence so far, but Shiro could tell that Sendak was itching to get back to work, whatever work entailed, and the words had just slipped out.

Shiro hadn’t asked previously out of a sense of politeness but also because a part of him was afraid that Sendak would reveal that he was secretly a mob boss, or something equally nefarious and terrifying. But now that they’d started dating, he couldn’t content himself with not knowing.

“It is hardly interesting,” Sendak replied, a non-answer.

“Tell me,” Shiro said, his tone brooking no argument. 

Sendak sat up, dislodging Shiro from his position and moved to the edge of the bed, his back to Shiro.

“Marmora Corp is a security consultant for private companies,” he said, stretching his arms above his head. Shiro watched the play of muscles for a moment before crawling up behind him and wrapping his arms around his waist, tugging him backwards in hopes it would convince him to come back to bed.

“I could have told you that much. I’ve been on your website.”

“Then why do you ask?”

“Because that’s not an answer,” Shiro pressed. “Your website could use some work, by the way. I don’t know why you guys love the color purple so much, but it wouldn’t kill you to add some white.”

Sendak laughed, full-bodied and loud. Shiro had been so startled that he barely reacted when Sendak turned and nuzzled the side of his face.

“You are a delight. I will make Regris aware of your opinion.”

“Regris?” Shiro leaned into the touch. He didn’t understand all of Sendak’s various motions, but he knew affection when he felt it. “Is that one of your coworkers?”

Sendak nodded. “The IT department. He is also responsible for our branding.”

All that money and they decided _that_ was what they wanted their website to look like? Shiro was tempted to make a comment, but he didn’t want to be rude.

“That’s nice. Now tell me what it is _you_ do. Strategy manager sounds interesting. How does a strategy manager help people beef up their security?”

“I am responsible for the goals we wish to complete. I organize and decide the placement of our members. I don’t do any of the ‘beefing’, as it were.”

“Hm,” Shiro hummed, trying not to smile at the way Sendak said beef. “That’s an interesting way to phrase it.”

“It is boring work, but necessary.”

“The paycheck probably helps,” Shiro teased.

Sendak smirked. Then he had stood up and walked out of the room, returning with his laptop and phone in hand, and the conversation moved on.

Shiro was ripped from the memory when he saw Sendak’s assistant Haxus walking up to the doors of Juniberry Java, a wrapped box in hand. It didn’t occur to Shiro that it might be significant in any way until he set the box down on the table and declared it was a gift from Sendak.

“What?” Shiro looked around to make sure none of the customers or his coworkers had noticed what was happening. Once assured that the coast was clear, he picked up the package and shoved it underneath the counter.  

“Tell him thanks,” he told Haxus. “But I’m kind of in the middle of work, so—”

“Mr. Sendak requested you open it immediately,” Haxus interrupted. “He—and I quote—wanted me to see your exact reaction.”

Shiro stared at him.

Sometimes, he forgot how much Sendak loved to watch him, whether it was when they ate or when they fucked. He assumed it had to do with whole ‘providing like a true galra’ instinct. Normally, Shiro didn’t mind, but right at that moment he was _working._

“Does he understand that I have a job to do? I swear…” Shiro sighed, put upon. “I guess I can take my break now.”

Shaking his head, Shiro went to inform Allura that he was taking his break and then walked around back with the package, Haxus in tow. It was light, which meant it couldn’t be anything truly out there, like the roses. Shiro was imagining that it was a shirt he might’ve bought to replace the one he’d ripped a hole in on their last date when he’d gotten a little too excited.

Shiro sat down on the single stool that was next to the doorway and pulled at the ribbon that had been gracefully wrapped around the box. After handing it to Haxus, he lifted the top off and moved it down underneath.

Once he’d unveiled what was buried in tissue paper, he gasped.

“This is…” Shiro lifted the scarf out of the box. It was incredibly soft to the touch and a delicate shade of grey. “I was looking at this. In the store. The other day.”

Shiro stroked his palm down the length of the scarf, stretching it between his hands. Then he picked up the hat, flipping it inside out to feel at the inside. He was aware he was speaking in segments, but he was currently incapable of articulating himself properly.

The scarf had been at the front of one of the boutiques downtown. Shiro had bemoaned his lack of funds while he was with Sendak, mostly as a jest. There was no way in hell he was going to spend over a hundred dollars on a scarf and hat, but Sendak noticed his interest, however briefly, and had apparently taken it upon himself to buy it for him.

Shiro wrapped it haphazardly around his neck, burying his nose into the warmth. The chill had been particularly bad that week, and so Shiro had been considering getting something cheap for the coming months.

This was much, much nicer. Warmth surfaced in Shiro’s chest.

“It’s so soft!” He took it off and readjusted it to settle properly on his neck and shoulders. “Wow. This is _so_ nice.” He stroked at it, pausing when something occurred to him. “I should call him.”

Haxus opened his mouth, looking like he wanted to say something, but then refrained, standing back while Shiro called Sendak.

His phone rang a few times, but he didn’t answer. After waiting a beat, Shiro tried again, with the same result.

“It is the middle of the workday,” he mused aloud. “I guess he’s busy. Which is why he sent you to give this to me.”

Shiro eyed Haxus uncertainly, who only blinked in reply. He had a feeling this is the last thing that the galra would rather be doing, and it made him feel a little guilty.

“Tell him thank you,” Shiro said. “And he doesn’t have to keep doing things like this. Seriously, this is too much. This was,” Shiro winced just thinking about it, “pretty pricey, right?”

Haxus said nothing. He looked like he very much wanted to.

“Right.” He bit his lip, bunching the fabric in his hands, feeling more queasy the longer he thought about the price. “Well, now that I’m taking my break I think I’m going to get some lunch. You want to join me, since you came all this way?”

Haxus’ lips curled. “Ancients, no. Not that your company wouldn’t be illuminating, but—”

“You have actual work to do,” Shiro surmised. “Don’t worry about it. Get out of here. I hope my reaction was juicy enough.”

“It was everything Mr. Sendak was hoping for, I’m certain.” Haxus flashed him an uncomfortable smile. “Have a pleasant day.”

“You, too!” Shiro called, watching him walk away, assuming that was the end of it. Then he texted Sendak his thanks, followed by, _that was very sweet of you. Love the scarf. You don’t have to keep doing that, you’ve already got me hook line and sinker._

* * *

Shiro had severely underestimated Sendak’s perseverance.

The next day, a box of expensive chocolate truffles was delivered to his door. Shiro finished half the box before the guilt set in. The day after that, it was the bottle of wine that Shiro had enjoyed on their last date. He shared the bottle with Matt, but he still felt uneasy. On the third day, he was given some kind of alien plant, similar to a cactus. It was meant to last for many years, and according to the website Shiro had visited after receiving it from Haxus, it had taken some serious doing on Sendak’s part to get it to him on time.

 _Let this be your companion while we are apart,_ his note had read.

Shiro didn’t know what to make of the gifts. Courting was one thing, and the gifts were amazing and thoughtful, but they took effort, time, and most importantly: _money._ Every time he received one he felt so elated that he wanted to shout, but then that feeling would immediately be replaced by the same guilt he felt when he thought about the expense.

The day after that, Sendak surprised Shiro by coming by his apartment.

When Shiro opened the door, he couldn’t help the smile that rose to his face.

“Sendak! What are you doing here?” He tossed his arms around his neck, pulling him down into a fierce hug. He hadn’t seen Sendak in over a week, and the scent of his signature cologne drifted over his nose. Shiro inhaled, smiling when he felt Sendak’s chest expand as he did the same.

“I thought you had work,” Shiro said, kissing him briefly.

“I wanted to see you.”

Sendak set the bag in his hand down and then leaned forward, capturing Shiro’s lips in another, deeper kiss.

At some point between that moment and the next, Shiro ended up with his back against the wall, Sendak’s hand grabbing his ass, making that same growling sound that drove Shiro crazy. He liked when Sendak showed his aggression in ways like this. While Sendak claimed his mouth, Shiro stroked his fingers down the length of his arm until he took him by his wrists and pinned them against the wall with a solid _thump_.

Shiro licked his lips. He’d missed him so much—

“Shiro, who was at the door?” came Matt’s voice from down the hall. Shiro couldn’t react fast enough, and by the time he’d removed his mouth from Sendak’s, Matt was standing there, staring at them with wide eyes. “Uh. Okay. Um? Hi.”

Sendak ignored the way Shiro started tugging at his wrists, moving his mouth to Shiro’s throat. Shiro’s eyelids fluttered, threatening to fall shut, and he nearly moaned; that was his major weakpoint, and Sendak _loved_ it when he was loud. Matt was the only reason he was able to keep his mouth shut.

Eventually, Shiro twisted out of Sendak’s hold, giving him a pointed look. Sendak failed to look sorry.

“Matt. I should’ve—” He smoothed his hands over his hair. “This is Sendak. He’s my—my boyfriend. I’ve told you about him. Sendak, this is my roommate, Matt.”

Matt hadn’t met Sendak since they usually spent nights at his penthouse, and he couldn’t imagine the sight they made now.

“You have,” Matt confirmed, almost like a question. “I didn’t realize he’d be so…big.” He blinked. “Sorry, is that rude of me to say?”

“No,” Sendak replied. “It is the truth. I am much bigger than either of you.”

“Cool. Um.” Matt reached out with his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Sendak. Shiro has told me a lot about you.”

Sendak’s hand engulfed Matt’s. They assessed each other while they shook hands, and Shiro choked out a laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation they were suddenly in, shaking his head when the two of them looked over.

“Sorry, this is just really weird,” Shiro admitted. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today. I thought you had work.”

“I do. I decided my work will wait.” He leaned over Shiro and nuzzled the top of his head. “I wanted to see you.”

“Well,” Matt said, eyeing the door like he couldn’t wait to leap through it. “I was going to lunch, so I’ll see you lovebirds later. Gonna get me some pizza. Want me to bring you any, Shiro?”

“No,” Sendak answered. “I have everything he needs.”

“Ri-ight.” Matt looked at Shiro, who shrugged. “Okay then. See you later. Nice meeting you, Sendak!”

Matt walked back to his room—to grab his keys, no doubt—whilst Shiro led Sendak into the living room.

“Since you’re here, I’ll give you the grand tour. This is our living room.” He pointed at the far wall. “The roses you gave me are over there.”

A few of the roses had been placed on the table as decoration, but the majority had been organized against the wall, placed in a few vases Shiro had bought. They were gorgeous all clumped together, but looked severely out of place in his dingy apartment space.

Sendak took in Shiro’s apartment in a single glance, his expression revealing nothing.

“It’s a place to live,” Shiro said, at Sendak’s continued silence. He started moving around, picking up things and putting them down at random.

“I would have cleaned up if I’d known you were coming,” he said, at the same that Sendak said, “It is quaint.”

“Oh, uh. Thanks.” Shiro started walking to the other side of the apartment, motioning for Sendak to follow. “This is our kitchen. Would you like something to drink?”

“No. In fact—” Sendak moved back into the hallway, returning with the bag he’d set down before Shiro had accosted him. “I brought something that I was hoping you might like.”

“Oh?” Shiro had been a little afraid to know what was inside, but once Sendak pulled the bottle, he relaxed. “Is it something alien?”

“Perhaps to you.” The liquid was clear and full of large bubbles. “It is made of oizhen berries from a planet near my home.”

“Wow.” Shiro took the bottle from him, examining the label. It wasn’t in English, that was for sure. “Is it sparkling?”

Sendak did not immediately reply, which usually meant the translator didn’t quite catch Shiro’s meaning.

“Is it carbonated?” he tried again.

Sendak grunted, shaking his head. “The bubbles are a product of the fruit used to make it. They contain the flavor.”

“That’s…interesting. Huh.”

Shiro set it down and then went to rifle through his drawers, looking for the corkscrew that they kept around. He found it hiding behind their coffee maker and then brought it back, setting it next to the bottle.

“The bubbles will pop and disperse the flavor once exposed to oxygen,” Sendak explained. “It is best consumed immediately.”

Shiro paused from where he’d been about to start uncorking it.

“So it’s a one-time use sort of thing? Where did you even _get_ this?”

“I brought it,” Sendak said simply.

“You…brought it?” Shiro asked, puzzled.

“I have had this since before I came to Earth.”

Shiro snatched his hands away from the bottle like they’d been burned.

“You mean to tell me you’ve had this for years, and you decided to bring it to _me?_ Today? I’m still dressed in my pajamas!”

Shiro gestured down at himself. Sendak frowned.

“I fail to see the problem.”

Shiro was beginning to understand that was a theme. He did whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and that was a little terrifying to behold.

“Sendak.” Shiro reached over and took Sendak’s hand. “This is so sweet of you. But—”

Sendak huffed, and Shiro had a feeling that if he had pupils, they would be rolling back. “Why do I get the feeling I know what you are about to say.”

“—you didn’t have to do this,” Shiro said, undeterred. “This should be saved for a special occasion! This came from across the galaxy!”

“It is a simple drink,” Sendak replied, starting to look bothered. “It was commonplace. You’re always saying that, Shiro. I am well aware I did not _have_ to bring this to you. I _wanted_ to.”

“But why?” Shiro pushed the bottle gently back in his direction, hoping his smile would soothe the fur that was slowly bristling along Sendak’s neck. “Shouldn’t we save this? We can drink this together another time. Don’t just waste it on me.”

“It is not a _waste.”_ His voice edged onto a growl, his irritation slowly growing. “I don’t understand why you will not let me gift you things without fighting me on my intentions. You smell like you are happy, and yet you act otherwise. Accept them, or do not.”

“It—” Shiro swallowed, looking away. “It’s not that simple. You don’t understand.”

“Then _explain_ it to me,” Sendak said, gentling his voice. He leaned over the counter, reaching for Shiro’s elbow with ease. “Shiro, look at me.”

Shiro was helpless to resist the authoritative tone of voice. When he looked up at Sendak, he found genuine concern there, and it made him feel even worse.

How could he explain it when he barely understood it himself?

Sendak was waiting, so Shiro opened his mouth, only to be interrupted when Sendak’s cell suddenly started ringing. It was a sharp sound like an alarm—an odd choice for a ringtone—and Sendak didn’t waste time bringing his phone up to his ear, holding his hand out to Shiro and putting their conversation on hold. Then he turned off his translator, saying something in Galran before walking to the other side of the room.

It must have been serious: he didn’t usually leave that quickly.

Shiro fiddled with the bottle, moving it gently from side-to-side to see if the bubbles would move. They remained still, like they’d been frozen in place. He still couldn’t believe Sendak was going to waste it on him.

Before long, Sendak had returned. He was still holding his phone up to his ear.

“I must leave,” he said. He sounded apologetic. “It is urgent.”

“Oh.” Shiro tried not to let his disappointment show. “I see. That’s too bad. You—you do your thing.”

Sendak walked over to him and nuzzled the side of his face. Then he kissed the space above his ear, just under his hairline. Shiro turned, trying to catch him in a real goodbye kiss, but Sendak was already walking away, still holding onto his phone.

“Quiet,” he said to whoever was on the other end. He glanced at Shiro. “I will return if possible, Shiro. Be good while I’m away.”

The door closed behind him, and it was just Shiro and the drink Sendak had left.

He wrapped his arms around himself. The air in the room suddenly seemed startlingly cold without Sendak there to fill up the space.

Shiro picked up the bottle and considered drinking it, just for the hell of it.

 _It would serve him right for leaving me like that,_ he thought. Then he set it down.

It was an unjust, unfair thought. He was just—he felt dejected because of the way things had ended. They had been on the cusp of an argument that Shiro could tell had been building for a while. A part of Shiro was glad for the interruption; he didn’t know how to navigate that conversation, and about what?

Something that shouldn’t even bother him?

* * *

“And then he brought it to the shop!” Shiro exclaimed, swinging his drink in front of him. The liquid sloshed up the side of the glass, droplets splashing onto his shirt. He scowled, staring down at the stain. “Does he think I can just drop everything for him? I’ve got stuff to do, too, you know!”

“So you’ve said about eight times,” Keith said, leaning into his hand. “Why didn’t you just send it back, if it was such a big deal? You didn’t have to open it there.”

Shiro looked at Keith like he didn’t understand the words coming out of his mouth.

“I just don’t understand why he’s always giving me so much stuff,” Shiro continued, changing tracks. “We’ve been dating for like a month. And I get it.”

Shiro looked at Lance while he spoke, the other most attentive member out of their group. Aside from Keith and Lance, the rest of them were absorbed in watching the game show on the television, ignoring Shiro while he bitched about how nice his relationship was.

“I get it,” Shiro repeated. “He wants to provide or whatever. I’ve got that part. I _got_ it.”

He gestured at Lance with his glass and then threw it back, inhaling the last of his beer.

“I’m still confused,” Keith said. He had been nursing his second beer for the last half hour. It was a well-known fact that alcohol didn’t affect him as quickly. “I thought he was your sugar daddy.”

Shiro stared at Keith.

Lance sputtered, his face going cherry red as he punched him in the arm.

“Keith!” he shrieked.

“What?!” Keith rubbed his arm, baring his teeth at Lance. “You were the one who said it!”

“You weren’t supposed to _say_ that! That was between us!”

“So he’s not?” Keith glanced between them. “I’m confused again.”

“What the hell are you guys talking about? Do you—are you saying you think he’s my…” He let out a sharp, hysterical laugh, “my _sugar daddy?”_

“I mean, more or less?” said Lance. “Technically speaking.”

“He buys you stuff, doesn’t he?” Hunk cut in. He turned away from the TV and faced the group. “I thought that was why you went out with him. Because he tipped a lot.”

“I went out with him because he was nice!” Shiro said. He might have shouted it. Pidge was giggling, and a few people were staring at him. Shiro attempted to lower his voice, shooting Pidge a glare. “Why are you here again? I thought you couldn’t drink.”

Shiro tended to get bitchy when he was drunk. This was also a well-known fact.

“ _Nice_ is not the word I’d use,” Keith said quietly.

“You say that literally every time I come along.” Pidge rolled her eyes. “I’m mostly here for that.”

Pidge pointed behind Shiro. ‘That’ was Matt, who was currently attempting to flirt with an alien sitting at the edge of the bar, unsuccessfully so if their expression had anything to say about it.

“He’s such a trainwreck,” she said, but she was smiling. “But anyway—” She looked at Shiro, chewing and popping her gum after a moment. “Is that really the only reason?”

“Of course! I’m not some kind of gold digger.”

“I wouldn’t say it makes you a gold digger,” Hunk said slowly. “He just wants you to have nice things, right?”

“He likes you. Sounds simple to me,” Lance added.

“But—but—” Shiro waved his glass in the air, trying to properly communicate what he was feeling. “Ugh. I just feel—” He stopped, tried to take a drink, realized his glass was empty, and then set it down unsteadily. “I feel _bad.”_

“Then tell him you want him to stop,” Lance offered. “Or, find other ways to return the favor. Wink.”

“Did you just say wink?” Keith asked.

“Yeah, Keith.” Lance wrapped his arm around Keith’s chair. “Yeah, I did.”

“It’s not about returning the favor. I know he doesn’t care about that and while I would like to give back, I just feel…”

He didn’t know. Or rather he did know, and didn’t want to say it.

“I’m getting another drink,” Shiro said, but not before he sent off a text to Sendak, swiping his fingers haphazardly across the keypad.

_y area my side daddy???_

He squinted down at his screen, trying to decide if he was seeing things right. Using Swype had its advantages and disadvantages on occasion.

“This looks good, right?” He shoved his phone in Pidge’s face and she blinked rapidly, adjusting her glasses.

“Um, what?”

“Good.” Shiro sent it off and then marched up to the bar to get another drink. When he returned, conversation was in full swing, and it was about him.

“I’d love a sugar daddy,” Lance said. “You’ve got it good, man. That’s a fancy scarf hanging off your chair. Who got that for you, hm?”

“Sendak, which you know. And it is nice.” He pulled it around his neck, despite the heat inside the bar, and sighed miserably. “I love it.”

“Then why are you so upset?”

Shiro’s phone buzzed.

Sendak [10:34PM] _That was incomprehensible. Are you well?_

Shiro [10:35PM] _Night be a bit drink_

“But you haven’t _refused_ the gifts,” Pidge pointed out. Shiro looked over at her. “So stop taking them and just send ‘em back.”

“No,” Shiro replied inexplicably.

“Dude. Then why are you so salty about it?” Lance pressed, poking him in his side. “Come on, sugar baby. Spill.”

“I don’t know, okay!” Shiro ripped the scarf off and shoved it into his lap. He bunched his fingers in the fabric, a wave of guilt rolling over him when he thought about how much he…

How much he loved it.

Shiro groaned, leaning his head on the table. His elbow had landed in the pile of nachos on Pidge’s side, and if he’d been less drunk he might have cared.

At his silence, the conversation moved on. Shiro kept his head on the table, thoughts whirling. Now that he’d admitted it, he felt ashamed. And it wasn’t as if he could tell his friends about it, not without sounding delusional.

The truth was, he didn’t hate it. He _loved_ the things Sendak bought for him. The more expensive, the more he felt both overwhelmed and excited. And maybe for most people, that didn’t seem like a big deal, but for Shiro, it was different.

A part of him felt like he was cheating.

_Do I really deserve all this? Or worse, am I staying with him because I like the gifts he gives me?_

He didn’t feel like he could trust himself, but at the same time, he didn’t want things to stop. And that was just Shiro’s own selfish nature that he desperately tried to squash down rearing its head.

He lifted his head and swung his beer in an arc, narrowly missing dousing Lance. “I just wish—why’s he have to be so _nice?”_

Shiro laid his head back down on the table. His friends merely looked amused at his behavior, likely because he didn’t often let loose like this when they went out drinking (see: never).

The entire situation felt ridiculous. He was complaining about Sendak being nice and buying him expensive gifts and how it made him feel guilty, but instead of bringing it up with Sendak, he’d been letting it fester.

At the end of the day, Shiro liked being pampered. He liked the way the gifts made him feel. And that realization had made him uncomfortable.

Bringing it up with Sendak would only mean acknowledging how much he in fact did like it, which he’d been hoping to avoid.

“You should probably answer your daddy’s texts,” Lance said, in jest. Shiro straightened, the word _daddy_ hitting his spine like a sharp knife. “Your phone has been going off.”

“Don’t say it like that,” Keith muttered.

Shiro picked up his phone and scrolled through the texts that Sendak had sent.

Sendak [10:38PM] _Let me know if you are in any sort of danger._

Sendak [10:40PM] _I have felt unsettled since our conversation earlier. I didn’t want to leave you then, but it was a necessary move on my part._

Sendak [10:44PM] _I miss your scent. Our brief meeting was not satisfying in the least._

“That’s not the face of somebody digging for gold.”

“Hm?”

“You’re smiling really hard,” Hunk said. “What’d he say?”

Shiro realized that he was grinning like an idiot and twisted his mouth, trying to wipe the expression off his face.

“It’s nothing, really. Just—Sendak is so sweet. He’s _so_ sweet. Look!” He showed them the texts, waving his phone in front of each of them. Hunk ended up being the one to snatch his wrist in hand and hold it still to read what he’d said.

“He’s worried about you,” Pidge said. “Cute.”

“Did he say he misses smelling you?” Lance wrinkled his nose.

“He’s _so_ nice. He’s the best boyfriend.” Shiro knocked back a good half of his beer, quickly on his way to being well and truly drunk. “I’m—” he paused to burp, “—I might be okay with him being my sugar daddy. If he wanted to be.”

A sharp, vicious thrill ran through him when he said it out loud.

“Maybe,” he added. That was something sober Shiro could deal with.

* * *

The next morning, Shiro felt nothing but regret.

He laid in bed for the entirety of the morning, only managing a quick trip to the bathroom to pee and swallow a few pills. He drank some water the previous night, but not enough to alleviate the pounding of his skull.

Twice he considered offing himself just to get it over with, but eventually the worst of it faded, and he was able to start going about his day with only a dull throb.

“Had fun?” Matt chirped, upon seeing him enter the kitchen.

“Shut up.” Shiro slid into one of the chairs at the kitchen table and buried his head in his hands. “Why are you so chipper?”

“I only had a few drinks. And I drank water. You, my friend, were drunk. And complaining all night about your boyfriend.”

“I wasn’t complaining. I was just,” Shiro was too tired to think, so he waved his hand vaguely, “airing my grievances to my friends.”

“That’s literally what I just said,” Matt drawled. He pointed at his nearly empty plate, containing the last dredges of what looked like scrambled eggs. “Want me to make you something?”

“Nah, I got it. I’ll just sit here for a bit, drink some more water. My headache’s almost gone anyway.”

“Suit yourself.” Matt shrugged. “Oh, by the way, your boyfriend came by while you were sleeping and I told him—”

“He did _what?”_

“I told him—” Matt continued, talking over him. “To come back later. So he might swing by.”

As if on cue, there was a knock at their front door.

Shiro scrambled up from his seat, hurrying into his room to put on some pants. Assuming it was Sendak, it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen it all, but Shiro wasn’t about to walk around half-naked in front of his boyfriend _and_ his roommate.

By the time he came out of his room, Sendak was walking into the hallway, dressed in casual wear. It had to have been on purpose. He knew how much Shiro loved the way he wore jeans.

“Sendak,” he said. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

If he sounded a little off, it was only because of the headache still lingering in the back of his skill. And because Sendak had showed up virtually unannounced, with Matt being absolutely no help in that department.

“I texted,” Sendak replied evenly. “And called.”

“You did? Hold on, let me grab my phone. It’s…somewhere around here.”

Shiro walked around the apartment in search of his phone, with Sendak following closely behind. He was mostly silent, which Shiro couldn’t tell whether that was a bad sign. Choosing instead not to think about it, Shiro kept searching until he found it hidden underneath his sheets.

A quick glance assured him that yes, Sendak had both texted and called. Well, _fuck._

“I hope I didn’t worry you,” Shiro said, turning around, phone in hand. He stared at the screen, rereading Sendak’s texts from the night before over and over. He was just glad he’d forgotten to reply to his texts or it might have been much worse.

Not that there could be anything worse than this. The phone began to slip between his clammy fingers.

“Shiro.”

Shiro twitched, glancing up at him quickly. Sendak was much closer than he’d been before, reaching out and touching the side of his face.

“Relax,” he murmured. “You are incredibly tense. I did not come because I was angry. As I said the night before, I felt unsettled.”

“I was drunk,” Shiro said weakly.

“I’m aware. Nevertheless, we should speak about what occurred _before_ you went out drinking.”

Sendak gripped him by his chin and kissed him, and just like that, the rest of the tension Shiro had been holding onto bled from his shoulders. He relaxed into the kiss, opening his mouth to Sendak’s tongue.

“Shouldn’t you be working?” Shiro said against his lips. He slid his arms around his waist, laying his head against his chest. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Work will wait. Come.”

Sendak led Shiro into the living room, which thankfully Matt had vacated. He sat down on the couch and Sendak followed suit, looking ungainly large sitting on such low furniture.

“If this is about the drink thing, I just wanted to say—”

Sendak held up a hand. “You are not at fault.”

“What?”

“I have made you uncomfortable on many occasions.” Sendak looked down at his lap, ears flattening as he spoke. “I should have noticed how my gifts would be received. I understand now that humans see things in a very different light.”

“No, no, you’re—you’re amazing. Don’t say that. You’re a great boyfriend for wanting to do that for me.”

Shiro scooted closer to Sendak and took his hand.

“Honestly, it’s not you. I…I’m just not used to this. Being treated like this. The gifts _do_ make me uncomfortable.”

“Your scent says otherwise,” Sendak said. His lips thinned, and he glanced away, like he hadn’t meant to reveal that bit of information. “You have never once refused what I have offered to you, and you smell—” He stopped, hands clenching reflexively against his thighs. “You smell _happy.”_

Sendak spoke with longing, as if the mere thought of seeing Shiro happy was enough to satisfy that urge that Shiro didn’t completely understand.

“You have not refused them,” Sendak said, a bitter note in his voice. “You have said many times that my gifts were unnecessary, but never once have you claimed you did not _want_ them. So you must forgive for not understanding your feelings. If you were uncomfortable, you should have told me from the beginning.”

Shiro’s mouth opened. He felt that same, ugly pang of guilt.

“That’s because I don’t…” He trailed off. The words felt wrong in his mouth, even though they were true. “Look, if it were normal gifts, I’d probably be fine, but these?”

Shiro looked at the wall of roses.

“You’ve spent a lot of money on me,” he said, sounding shockingly small. “And that’s…”

Sendak gazed at him, his one eye raking up and down his form indistinguishably. Shiro wondered what he saw.

He stood abruptly, walking over to the other side of the room. Consequently, it was where the roses were. Shiro picked one up and examined it, running his fingers down the stem.

He felt when Sendak walked up behind him, and didn’t resist when hands turned him around, or when he lifted his chin.

“You do not dislike the gifts.” It was not a question.

“No,” Shiro admitted, meeting his eyes. “I like them. A lot. But I’m not—I don’t want to seem like I’m using you.”

“Humans are puzzling creatures.”

This was something Sendak said a lot. With the galra, things were apparently straightforward, and feelings were dealt with in an efficient manner. To him, the struggles of humanity must have seemed so frustratingly complex.

Sendak took the rose and then snapped off the stem, tucking the flower behind his ear. His touch lingered.

“Your guilt is misplaced. I enjoy gifting you things of high value, and you enjoy receiving them. Why must you suffer over your own enjoyment?”

“It’s not that easy,” Shiro muttered. “It can’t be that easy.”

“It can.” Sendak’s voice was low and fervent. “ _I_ enjoy it. Let me provide you with everything you could desire. Anything.”

 _Good boy._ Shiro’s ears were ringing.

“I don’t know how,” Shiro replied honestly. “Did you know my coworkers call you my sugar daddy?”

He flinched away the moment it left his mouth, expecting some sort of response—confusion, befuddlement, or even worse, _disgust_ —but Sendak merely looked at him.

“I have heard of the term. I had assumed those arrangements were more in the nature of being an escort.”

“I wouldn’t know.” Shiro scratched the back of his neck and ended up dislodging the rose. He picked it up off the ground, and then Sendak wrapped his fingers around the ones holding it. “I don’t know anything about that…about any of that.”

Sendak hummed, a low sound.

“What else is there to know but this?” He kissed Shiro, slow, keeping it chaste, but Shiro opened his mouth to it anyway. “You find pleasure in the way I provide for you. Nothing about that is wrong. You are deserving of all of it.”

Between one kiss and the next, he spoke again, words that Shiro had been aching to hear pressed into his lips.

“My good boy.”

The room felt too hot all of a sudden, but Shiro melted into the warmth of his embrace anyway, biting at the inside of his lower lip to stay quiet.

“You like it when I say that,” Sendak observed aloud. He cupped the side of Shiro’s head.

“Maybe.” Shiro leaned into his palm, his cheeks warm. He hoped Sendak couldn’t tell how hard he was blushing. “I like it when it comes from you.”

“Good,” Sendak purred. “Very good.”

Shiro exhaled a laugh.

“You’re not half bad yourself,” he said, smiling.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the wait. I was not feeling well for a while and I got caught up with things. This is very much my version of the kink (and honestly quite vanilla imo), so I hope you enjoy this shameless self-indulgence.

It started with a suit.

As a former military pilot, Shiro had formal wear, but when they went out—particularly at the more high-end restaurants—the old suit that he’d bought a few years ago seemed lackluster in the face of people with a lot more money than him.

Shiro didn’t mind being taken to nice places, but now that Sendak had the go to let loose, he wasn’t holding back. Every few nights he was intent on showing Shiro off his arm at one place or another, with most of them being fantastically alien.

It wasn’t the kind of atmosphere that Shiro was used to, and when he tried to hint at Sendak that he would prefer if they went somewhere more his style, he made what he would realize later was a fatal mistake in mentioning a need for a new suit.

“You don’t mind the suit I always wear, right?” Shiro asked, moving his phone to the other side of the counter, away from the splatters of grease coming out of the pan. He’d been craving fish, so he was making flounder he’d picked up from the local market a few nights ago.

Another month had passed since their relationship had moved into more serious territory. They hadn’t started talking on the phone regularly at first, but then one night Sendak called to ask him about the specifics of something he’d mentioned in a text and it ended up becoming a part of their routine.

Sendak didn’t always have time to chat long, but he made certain to give him at least half an hour after he finished with most of his work. Shiro generally had nothing better to do other than binge Netflix shows until he was comatose or go out with his small group of friends—most of whom were still in college, and often occupied with their studies—so he certainly wasn’t complaining.

“It’s kind of old,” Shiro continued, when Sendak didn’t immediately reply. He was silent by nature more often than not, but without the visual cues of his face to make up for the lack of a reply, Shiro tended to fill in the void with more chatter.

“I got it a few years ago,” he added. “It could fit better, I guess, but I haven’t gotten around to getting it tailored. It’s tight on my chest. I could probably use a new one.”

That was when Sendak finally gave his reply.

“Excuse me, Shiro.” He sounded distracted. “I’ve been doing work while we’ve been talking. I was not ignoring you.” Shiro heard the sound of shuffling papers, and he looked down at his phone as if he might see them. Just as Shiro was turning over his fish, Sendak said casually, as if it was no big deal, “I will buy you a new suit.”

“What?” Shiro laughed. He glanced down at his phone. “That’s not what I meant. You could just stop taking me to such nice places, you know.”

That time, the silence on the other end felt pointed.

“I will buy you several new suits,” Sendak said eventually, and Shiro laughed again, pretending that it didn’t make his heart start to beat with cautious excitement.

* * *

“I really don’t need this,” Shiro repeated half-heartedly, hoping that this time maybe it would feel like he meant it.

Granted, Sendak had never bought him anything like _this._

Shiro looked over at the row of suits that appeared to gleam under the light, looking nicer than anything Shiro had worn in his entire life. While he had semi-reluctantly agreed to let Sendak buy him a suit, these weren’t just _any_ suits.

It would be different if this was Men’s Warehouse, but this was _Interstellar Armory:_ a store so high-end that they didn’t even put price tags on anything in store.

When Sendak had insisted on going out, Shiro hadn’t known what to expect. He’d figured they would go to the park, or maybe out to Shiro’s favorite ice cream place, but then Sendak had taken a turn towards the various high-end boutiques and stopped in front of a shop that Shiro recognized only from the cover of magazines.

“You’re kidding me,” he’d said, glancing between Sendak, and the shop, and then Sendak again. “We’re not here for me, are we?”

Sendak simply looked at him and unlocked his door.

Ten minutes later, and Shiro was staring at the various suits, attempting to make a decision between three colors that looked awfully similar to his eye. Shiro had begun to wonder if he might have been a little colorblind without knowing it before deciding to ask Sendak, who pointed out the differences between them—or lack thereof.

“So, these shades of blue really are the same.”

“Correct,” Sendak replied, smirking when the consultant looked offended on the suits’ behalf. “Humans favor colors within a similar range to feel as though they have more of a choice. I prefer black.”

“I’ve noticed.” Shiro looked back at him with a smile that faded into a frown when he glanced back at the suits. “I guess…this one is nice.” He pulled out the sleeve of a darker color of blue, running his fingers over the fabric. “I’m drawn to it a little more than the others.”

“Have it fitted for him,” Sendak told the consultant.

Shiro was helpless to do anything but go along with it as the tailor took his measurements and started fitting the suit on his body. The fabric felt as expensive as it looked; it was luxurious and soft, far more comfortable than any formal wear he’d worn before.

“You’re always wearing a suit,” Shiro said, as Sendak went to tied his tie around his neck, adjusting it so it laid under the collar of his shirt nicely. Sendak had insisted that he try on a few shirts, declaring that they would be walking away with more than enough to last him. “Everyone in your company—they’re all galra, right?”

“Most of them,” Sendak replied, smoothing his fingers down the length of the tie. “We do employ some humans.”

“You don’t have to wear suits then, right? Is it just to blend in? Or do you like them?”

Sendak nodded. “In part. Participating in your culture and customs is no hardship for us. We do not sacrifice our own traditions. Your clothing is just another type of armor.”

“Armor?” Shiro asked, frowning. “Right, you were in the war. I guess you would have worn armor.”

Sendak’s hands had stilled near his throat, his expression betraying little. Shiro had the feeling he hadn’t meant to reveal that particular fact.

“How is it like armor?” Shiro asked casually, moving Sendak’s fingers out of the way to finish up his tie on his own.

“Not only is it similar in structure, but also power,” Sendak replied, after a moment. “And control. Like in most militant systems, rank is denoted by dress, whether it is cloth or metal.” He stepped away when the tailor returned with pins and clips to fit the suit to Shiro’s body. They drew Shiro into conversation while Sendak watched from the sidelines.

Shiro assumed the earlier conversation was over, and so Sendak surprised him when he continued the thread after the tailor was finished.

“It is not dissimilar to that,” Sendak said. “You judge the worth of each other based on the clothing you wear on your body and the things you own.” He inclined his head. “Power and control.”

“Huh.” Shiro smoothed his hands down his chest, feeling how nicely the suit fit him. He looked at Sendak in the mirror. “Well, you’re not wrong. You do like power. And control.” 

Sendak’s eyes were very sharp when they met his.

“Yes,” was all he said.

Once Shiro had been fitted for one, Sendak maintained he pick another.

“Oh, I couldn’t,” Shiro tried, holding his hands out in front of him like he expected the jackets to jump out at him. “One is plenty.”

“At least one more,” Sendak insisted.

He shifted Shiro closer and pulled out a jacket that he thought would look nice on him. The consultant was hovering behind them, wringing his hands, but Shiro hardly paid any attention to him; he was focused entirely on Sendak and their proximity. He had walked behind Shiro and bent low, his fur brushing Shiro’s cheek as he held the suit up against his chest.

His mouth went dry when Sendak pressed his mouth to the spot above his ear.

“You would look lovely in this color.”

“Thank you,” Shiro said, his cheeks starting to flush. “I guess one more…wouldn’t hurt.”

Sendak helped Shiro pick out a few that he liked out of the many available, and after a great deal of deliberation and patience from the consultant, Shiro managed to select another suit out of his top five.

“We’ll take the rest,” Sendak said, a few seconds after the words left his mouth.

Shiro sucked in a sharp breath.

“Sendak, you don’t have to.” He watched the consultant scurry off in a hurry. There were only a few people hanging in store, and Shiro felt like they all had eyes on him. He knew how out of place he looked standing next to Sendak in his designer suit, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. “That is way, way too much! You’re not getting all five suits.”

“Why not?” Sendak asked honestly.

“Because I don’t need five suits. Two is enough. More than enough.”

“I want to get them for you,” Sendak said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

To him, maybe it was. The fact that he could just _say_ something like that, and follow through because he was rich; because he was _Shiro’s_ rich boyfriend was…

Shiro didn’t have words to describe how it made him feel. Sendak didn’t seem to mind. He lifted Shiro’s chin and kissed him, claiming his mouth without a care for their surroundings. Considering how much money he was about to spend, Shiro figured it was warranted.

* * *

“Shiro,” Sendak began, jarring Shiro out the trance he was in.

“Hm? What?”

They were at a restaurant they’d been to a few times now. Shiro had a fondness for watching the fish swim around the aquarium and he liked that the staff were particularly friendly. He’d been staring at the glass aquarium for a while now, following the path of a small, red fish near the bottom of the tank.

Sendak settled back in his chair, appearing almost uncomfortable now that Shiro’s attention was on him.

“What is it?”

“I have something I wanted to give you.”

“Okay.” Shiro turned his body fully to face Sendak, reminding himself to keep his elbows off the table. “What?”

Sendak reached in his coat pocket. Shiro leaned forward, curious now that he knew it couldn’t be anything too big. Shiro would have noticed if his jacket had been bulging out obscenely.

When Sendak slid a card across the table, Shiro blinked down at it with a frown.

“That’s your credit card,” he pointed out, a smile edging onto his face. “What, you want me to pay for dinner?”

As soon as he said it, he wanted to wince at the tone of his own voice. Had he really become the kind of person that thought the idea of paying for dinner was a laughable assumption?

“No, of course not,” Sendak said, waving his hand. “Nothing of the sort. It is a credit card, yes. One of the ones that I own.”

“And you’re…” Understanding dawned on Shiro. “You’re giving it to me?”

“I want you to have it. In case there is anything you need. Or want.”

Shiro didn’t quite know how to take what Sendak was telling him, so he settled for picking up the card and staring at it.

“I-I don’t know,” he said, but he didn’t put it down. “I can afford paying for my own groceries and rent. I don’t really need this.”

“Then use it for things you simply want.” He shrugged, like it was no big deal. “If I can provide you with anything, I want you to have it.”

Shiro ran his thumb over the shimmering edge and wondered what he’d done to deserve somebody like this, who wanted to give him so much in seemingly return for so little. His instincts told him to reject it out of principle, but they had been around his block enough times that Shiro knew without a doubt that Sendak would fight with him over it until he finally gave in.

And Shiro was tired of fighting what felt good.

“Okay.” He curled his palm around the card, shooting Shendak a smile. “Thank you, Sendak. I’ll use it if I need it.”

“Good.” Sendak’s lips curled, and he looked genuinely pleased with himself. “Anything you desire, Shiro, you may have it.”

“Thanks,” Shiro repeated, quieter now. His mind kept going to the same, strange place, running on a loop. Pulling out his wallet, he put the card away in the frontmost slot, behind his debit card. Sendak watched him do it while a low, contented hum reverberated from his chest. Shiro wasn’t sure he was aware he was even doing it.

“You know, this isn’t going to help with the whole sugar daddy thing,” he joked.

“I know,” Sendak said. He didn’t sound particularly bothered.

* * *

Shiro twirled the card between his fingers, staring at the name printed at the bottom of the card.

_Sendak_

No last name, because the galra didn’t do last names—at least not in the same way that humans did. He probably had other titles that he could have used if he had wanted, but Sendak didn’t like to flaunt his past, that much Shiro had sensed in the short few months they had been dating.

It had been a week since Sendak had given him one of his credit cards, and he hadn’t even looked at it until now.

He could imagine what Lance would have to say if he saw it.

_You got daddy’s credit card?_

“Daddy’s credit card,” he muttered to himself. A sharp sensation shot down his spine.

For a moment, he imagined taking the card and splurging. He had always wanted a PS4, and compared to the amount of money that could probably be spent on this thing, that would be nothing. It was winter, too, so he could go for a nice coat. Maybe a new pair of boots.

Shiro sighed, laying the card down on the table.

 _Practicality_ wasn’t what he’d intended to consider. It seemed no matter what he did, he couldn’t fall into the role of Sendak’s adoring sugar baby, even in his fantasies.

 _I guess I could make it a really expensive pair of boots,_ he thought, tapping his finger on the edge of the kitchen table. _Something so expensive that even daddy would be—_

His finger stilled on the table. The air in the room suddenly seemed oppressive.

He picked up the card and stood, running his fingers unsteadily through his hair while he escaped to the bathroom. He shut the door behind him and then stared at himself in the mirror, leaning his palms flat against the countertop.

He stood there a solid minute, then two, and then three.

Shiro could hardly believe the thought had crossed his mind. That he had thought of Sendak as his _daddy—_

Arousal coiled tight in his gut. Shiro shifted on his feet, a hysterical giggle escaping him.

“Okay,” he said. “I guess this is happening.”

He’d been trying to deny it for so long, but the more than he thought about it, the more he couldn’t content himself with pretending he didn’t feel the urge to say it every time Sendak called him _good boy._ It was like he _knew,_ but he—he couldn’t. For him, it was just a praise thing. He didn’t see it the way that Shiro did; the way that, according to the internet, a lot of people did.

He combed his fingers through his hair again, wondering if he should shower and forget this whole thing. Not that he’d stop thinking about it then. It might actually make it worse.

He opened his mouth, staring at his face while he spoke.

 _You can do this,_ he thought. _This isn’t that weird. Just say it._

“Daddy.”

His own reaction was immediate. He ducked his head, covering the side of his face with one hand. It was just one word, but that one word implied so much, and he had no clue how Sendak would react to something like that, even on the off chance he understood what it meant in the context of their relationship.

“This is crazy,” he whispered, and then gave his head a rapid shake. “Okay, let’s try again. Sendak is—he’s my…” He swallowed heavily, hands turning clammy where they were resting on the counter. “He’s my daddy.”

His cock gave a little throb at that. Shiro closed his eyes and took a slow, solid breath.

“What is wrong with me?”

Shiro had always considered himself a normal, vanilla kind of guy, but then Sendak had come along, tossing money at him, acting like some kind of sugar daddy straight out a fantasy, and Lance just had to say the things he did. Everyone had. They tossed the word around like it was nothing, like Shiro didn’t feel a little jolt every time he thought of Sendak in that way.

And it wasn’t as if he wanted Sendak to put him in diapers or spank him. Well—the spanking wasn’t off the table, but he didn’t want to be _babied,_ not like that. He just liked when Sendak called him a good boy, and maybe on occasion he might want to call him by another name.

Shiro leaned his head up against the mirror and groaned.

It was official: he was fucked.

“You okay in there?” came Matt’s voice. He knocked. “I gotta piss.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Shiro called.

He scrubbed some water over his face and left the bathroom, barely sparing Matt a glance as he hurried to his room, closed the door behind, and then sat himself down on the edge of the bed.

_There’s one way to know how I really feel about it. See if I can get it up._

He sat there for a few seconds, running his palms over his knees, trying to decide where best to start.

“Daddy Sendak,” he said out loud. Using his name didn’t feel quite right, so he tossed out the Sendak part and focused on the word itself.

“Dad,” he tried, then made a face. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like it was a father or a dad kind of thing. It was a _daddy_ thing.

Shiro scooted back onto his bed, until he was resting against his pillows and cupped his hand over the line of his cock, rubbing the tips of his fingers along the curve.

“Daddy,” he said. His breath hitched, cock rising up into his palm. “Daddy. Daddy.”

Shiro unzipped his pants and pulled out his dick, closing his eyes and letting his imagination run free, momentarily shoving aside the shame and embarrassment telling him he shouldn’t be doing this. He imagined Sendak lying beside him, stroking his big palm down Shiro’s waist and pressing a kiss to his throat, murmuring the words in his ear.

_Good boy._

“Yeah,” he breathed, stroking his cock a few times to get it going. He imagined it was Sendak jerking him off; that it was Sendak who smeared his thumb in the precome leaking out of his cock. “Thank you, daddy.”

Shiro hummed low in his throat at the sweet rush of satisfaction he felt when imagining the response his thanks would give Sendak. Maybe, if he was very good, Sendak would let him thrust up into his fist.

“Daddy,” he whined, pitching his voice a little higher, turning to his side so he could ease the strain on his wrist while he pumped his cock. He kept the pressure steady, but controlled, barely staving off the orgasm that was fast approaching.

A part of Shiro couldn’t believe he was getting off to this. It had barely been a few minutes and he was already this close, ridiculously turned on the by the notion. Another minute and a few dozen strokes later and he moaned as he came all over his fingers and the sheets, trembling from the force of it.

Shiro rolled onto his back, reaching blindly for the box of tissues he kept by his bed. He cleaned off his hand and dabbed at the sheets, and then stared up at the ceiling.

There was no way he was going to tell Sendak about any of this. He was an _alien,_ and even assuming he wasn’t disgusted by most human peculiarities, there was no chance he would be interested in knowing that Shiro got off to thinking about him as his—his _daddy._

 _I’m fucked,_ Shiro thought, covering his face with his hands.

* * *

A week later, Shiro thought he was doing an admirable job of keeping his thoughts to himself. Sendak was usually perceptive of his moods, but he had been focused on working with a difficult client (his words) and so they had done little more than exchange blowjobs the few times they had seen each other.

It was why he was shocked when Sendak suddenly asked him to come to his company’s office party one of the nights that Shiro stayed over.

“You do parties?” Shiro asked, sitting up in bed. “Like human office parties?”

“Not quite,” Sendak clarified. “I use the term as it relates to humans, but we do gather and eat to celebrate the success of our endeavors on occasion. The human employees seem to enjoy it.”

“Do they?” Shiro got out of bed and walked over to where Sendak was working away at his desk, slipping his hands down his chest from behind. “I hope none of them are as cute I am.”

“None of them are what I would consider ‘cute.’” Sendak tipped his head towards him and Shiro kissed his cheek. “And none are as cute as you.”

Shiro beamed, leaning in to nuzzle at the side of his face. Sendak returned the gesture, moving his chair around to face him fully. Without another word Shiro climbed into his lap, wrapping his arms around Sendak’s neck, still smiling as they kissed.

“Mm,” Sendak hummed against his mouth, cupping the back of Shiro’s head. He deepened it, parting Shiro’s lips with ease, claiming his mouth slowly, like he was in no particular hurry.

When he pulled away, Shiro was reconsidering his stance on having sex on nights that he had to go into work early, and Sendak smirked at him like he knew exactly where his thoughts lied.

“Be a good boy, Shiro, and go to sleep,” he said, giving his ass a few solid pats. “I still have work to do.”

Shiro rolled his eyes dramatically and stood. “Yes, da—”

He caught himself just in time, covering up his mishap with a rigorous cough, a plausible excuse as for why he was suddenly red-faced.

“Are you all right?” Sendak asked, frowning in his direction.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Shiro wheezed. He leaned his hands on his knees, letting his head fall forward. He waved his hand in Sendak’s general direction. “Just swallowed the wrong way.”

Once he had control over himself, Shiro straightened and cleared his throat.

“Like I was _going_ to say: yes, _don’t_ you worry about me. I know what time it is. Maybe I’m planning on staying up tonight.”

“And subjecting me to waking you on so few hours of sleep? I do not believe that would be wise.”

Sendak shot him a smile full of teeth. Shiro returned the gesture, though on him it always ended up looking much less intimidating. Sendak seemed to appreciate his efforts nonetheless, coming as close to smiling as he ever did, which Shiro considered a win in his book.

* * *

Shiro wore the dark grey suit for the party—the one with the stripes that were only noticeable under the right lighting.

It was the one Sendak appreciated on him the most. Although he upheld the claim that he didn’t mind what outfit he wore, Shiro noticed the way his eyes followed him when he wore it. The cut of this suit was tighter than the others; not enough to be noticeable, but enough that he could tell the difference.

“How do I look?” Shiro asked, once he was finished tying his tie. He turned to the side, using Sendak’s full-length mirror to check out his ass. “Good enough to fit in with everybody there, I hope.”

“Good enough to eat.” Sendak cupped his cheeks and kissed the top of his forehead. “Are you ready?”

“I still need to do my hair.” Shiro fingered the white tuft. When he didn’t put any product in it, it tended to move in whatever direction it felt like if he didn’t rein it in. “You look great, by the way. Very handsome.”

He stroked his finger’s down Sendak’s chest. Sendak caught hold of them and tugged him in close, wrapping an arm around his waist to keep him in place while he mouthed at his neck.

“Sendak,” Shiro chastised.

“I’m only scenting you,” he purred. Shiro relaxed and then Sendak went back to it, running his nose and mouth along the length of his neck until he was satisfied. He didn’t pull away immediately though, stroking his thumb along the juncture between his neck and shoulder. “It is a shame humans’ scent glands are not at the throat. It would make marking you much more convenient.”

“You could always shove your face into my armpit.” He grinned. “It’s just as sexy.”

Sendak looked like he was almost considering it, which made Shiro’s smile falter.

“Does scenting really mean that much to you?”

Sendak nodded, still stroking the place on his neck where his imaginary scent gland would be.

“If I brought you not as my—if I brought you unmarked, it would appear to other galra that my claim is weak. It would imply that you mean little to me.”

“So you’re saying I mean something?” Shiro teased. He reached up and placed his palm where he surmised Sendak’s scent gland was located and then rubbed it in before bringing to his own neck. “Does this help?”

Sendak grunted appreciatively. “It is a crude way of doing it, but yes, it does.”

“You know,” Shiro said, lowering his voice, “if it’s that big of a deal, there’s another way we could get your scent all over me.”

“We will be late,” Sendak said, but he sounded very tempted. He took Shiro by the chin, thumbing his lower lip. “Though perhaps your mouth would do.”

Shiro gave Sendak’s thumb a suggestive lick, then dropped to his knees.

* * *

They drove in relative silence for most of the way. Shiro attempted to keep the conversation going by asking questions about what to expect and how he should act, but Sendak seemed distracted, his already short answers altering into acknowledging grunts the closer they got to their destination.

The way he talked about the event had been with anticipation and a hint of excitement, so seeing him now become non-verbal and nervous, of all things, shocked Shiro to the point of concern.

He let the silence last, only speaking up once they had reached their destination.

“You all right?” he asked, unbuckling his seatbelt. “You’ve been quiet.”

“Yes.” Sendak blinked at him like he’d only just realized he was there. “I was thinking.” He leaned forward and addressed the driver. “Park the car on the upper deck. Shiro,” he unlocked the door and then opened it, “come.”

Shiro followed him outside, and together they walked up to the entrance up the building. The party was taking place on the top floor, in the company’s lounge and bar area. He fully expected it to be fairly extravagant, and as they walked up to the double doors leading inside, he wasn’t disappointed.

The room was well-lit, dim enough that the atmosphere wasn’t ruined, lacking the fluorescent lights that Shiro had grown used to seeing at the Galaxy Garrison gatherings.

Sendak was stiff by his side, the hand at the small of his back tensing every time Shiro so much as twitched. Shiro’s gaze was immediately drawn to the center of the room, where a large number of galra were seated around a large hearth. They were all incredibly tall—save for a few exceptions standing off to the side—and when one of the galra noticed them standing by the entrance, they rose to greet them.

“Sendak!”

Shiro felt him go rigid. The galra walked over to them and clapped his arm up over Sendak’s elbow. Then they did something strange where they knocked their heads together, doing what Shiro assumed was exchanging their scents.

“It is good to see you here.” His eyes flickered to Shiro, and Sendak shifted in place. “I wasn’t sure you’d show.”

 “I have never once missed a meeting.” Sendak removed his arm so he could cross both over his chest. “You are aware of this, Thace.”

“I am. But this time, you’ve brought your human with you.”

He didn’t bother to hide his stare. Shiro met his eyes, trying not to let his nerves show, offering Thace a polite smile and a handshake.

“I’m Shiro. It’s nice to meet you.”

Thace smiled in that same, awkward way all galra did. “I am Thace. Sendak has told us about you.”

As they exchanged pleasantries, some of the tension bled out of Sendak’s shoulders, but not by much. He stuck close to Shiro, keeping one arm around his waist at all times, as if he feared something happening if he let go.

Shiro did his best to ignore it, focusing on the people he was meeting, but it was hard knowing how _nervous_ Sendak was. As more galra had approached the pair, Shiro had to remind himself of the differences in their culture. They had no qualms about observing him in a way that would be rude if they were human—although, to their credit, they did keep their distance.

Sendak exchanged the same greetings and gestures with all of them, and then he stepped back, laying his hand on Shiro’s shoulder, and it felt like the air had was forcibly stilled as all eyes settled on him.

“This is my—” there was the barest pause, “—mate, Shiro.”

Shiro shot him a look, but quickly became busy shaking their hands. It was clearly for his benefit as a human; some of their claws were long, and they were very careful when their hands touched.

Thankfully, they didn’t stick around. Once he was introduced, the galra all returned to mingling with their coworkers. Shiro stuck to Sendak’s side while they moved about the room and greeted everyone, including the humans. Most of their names went in one ear and out the other, but Shiro did his best to remember the ones he could.

Once greetings were through, Sendak drew Shiro off to the side and showed him the bar full of food, instructing him on which ones he should avoid eating.

“A human made the mistake of eating this once,” he said, picking up something gelatinous and putting it on a cracker. It didn’t look appetizing, but Sendak popped it into his mouth without hesitation. “It will tear your stomach to shreds.”

“Oka-ay,” he drawled, eyeing the food warily. “Anything else I should avoid?”

“Just the food on this end of the table. The section is separate, but it is easy to miss.”

“Got it.” Shiro leaned down to get a better look at all the food he was meant to avoid consuming. Most of it was too alien for him to even consider, so he didn’t expect that would be very difficult. After picking up a plate, he started loading it with everything that was consumable for him.

“I didn’t expect everyone to be so intimidating,” Shiro said, when Sendak moved in range with his own plate. Then he lowered his voice, freeing his hand to stroke it down Sendak’s arm. “I was hoping they’d be like you.”

“I am not intimidating?” Sendak rumbled, leaning in to nuzzle the side of his face.

Shiro smiled, pressing a quick kiss to his jaw. “Not in the least.”

He finished with his plate and then moved to find a spot to sit and eat for a while. As he let his gaze wander, it took Shiro a few long seconds to realize that parts of the room were staring at him.

The moment they realized Shiro was aware of the sets of eyes pointed in his direction, they looked away.

Shiro blinked.

“Well that was weird.”

“What was weird?” Sendak asked.

Shiro shrugged, feigning nonchalance. It was probably just a galra thing that he would have needed explained to him for the eightieth time. “Oh, nothing. Just looking for a place to sit where I won’t feel so out of place.”

“With me.” Sendak nodded in the direction of the bar. “I should introduce you to the last of my colleagues.”

They went to the bar, where Shiro met more of Sendak’s friends and colleagues. Among them was a huge, dark and thickly furred galra named Antok, one with a tail that Shiro recognized as Regris, and then a tall, slender galra hanging on the far end of the bar with lavender fur named Ulaz.

“You made the website,” Shiro said, nodding his head at Regris.

“Sendak mentioned you have some thoughts on its design,” he said, his tail flicking behind him. Regris didn’t smile, but Shiro had the feeling he was amused.

“It’s not bad,” Shiro said honestly. “It’s well done. I just think it’s very—galra.”

Regris hummed contemplatively, looking like he had more to say, but then Sendak spoke, steering the conversation away, and Shiro let him take over while he made himself comfortable on one of the bar stools. He started munching on his food, giving the room another once-over now that he had a better vantage point.

As he looked around, something about the way the galra were standing around struck him as odd. He hadn’t given it much thought, but now that he was taking another look, for all that it was talked up as a party, there was a lot of serious conversation happening. The galra didn’t smile much, but their expressions ranged from severe to downright angry, murmuring in quiet groups.

“Shiro,” came Sendak’s voice.

Shiro stopped staring at a few galra growling something quietly at one another so he could give Sendak his full attention.

“Hm?”

“I need to speak with our head of security. Krolia is not a patient woman and I have kept her waiting.”

Shiro frowned, straightening his shoulders at the mention of being left alone.

“Okay.” He leaned up and met Sendak lips for a quick kiss. “Hurry back?”

“Of course. I will return momentarily.” Sendak brushed another kiss on top of his head and said, in a low voice that made Shiro’s spine tingle, “be good.”

Over the course of the next few minutes, Shiro ate his food and attempted to make conversation with Antok, quickly realizing that he was a galra of few words. He didn’t seem unkind, but he wasn’t up to talking. With that in mind, Shiro busied himself with funneling food down his throat instead. He was in the middle of asking the bartender for a drink that he could consume when he heard someone cough gently from behind.

“Excuse me,” said the galra, once he’d turned to face them. It took Shiro a moment to recall his name. Ulaz. “I don’t believe we’ve had the chance to officially meet.”

“Ulaz.” Shiro nodded his head. “You’re a part of the security team, right?”

“I consult,” Ulaz confirmed. “Though I am sure you would not find it very interesting.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I’d love to know more about what you all do around here. Sendak is kind of tight-lipped.”

“With good reason.” Ulaz’s smile was sharp. “I am more interested in hearing about you. You are, after all, the one that’s had him tied at the neck these last few pheebs.”

“Me?” Shiro wasn’t able to keep the incredulous surprise from his voice. “Does he talk about me a lot?”

“It’s more of what he does not say.” Ulaz relaxed into the seat next to him, folding his hands over his lap. “You bear his scent, and he has mentioned that he had courted you. Yet you do not have his mark.”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Shiro said. The scenting he understood, but the mention of a mark was new. “What mark?”

“I don’t mean to pry,” Ulaz said, somewhat hurriedly, as if he believed he’d overstepped some sort of boundary. “I was merely curious. Sendak cares for you deeply as his mate, which is quite unusual in itself that a mate would not have a mating mark.”

Shiro glanced over at where Sendak was in deep conversation with a human-sized galra woman—Krolia, presumably.

“I feel like there’s some kind of misunderstanding,” Shiro said, returning to look at Ulaz. “I have no clue what you’re talking about. You don’t mean like—” he hesitated, lowering his voice, “like a hickey?”

Ulaz blinked at him.

“I do not know what a ‘hickey’ is, unless that is your word for mating mark.”

“I mean—sort of? It’s a mark that you put on someone _when_ you mate. And—I probably shouldn’t be telling you this. It’s kind of inappropriate.”

“No, please, I am curious. I am—I _was_ a doctor, so I have a vested interest in the mating habits of others. Perhaps that is your mark. It must be kept in another place.”

“I think we might be talking about different things,” Shiro said. “The…mating mark, is it permanent?”

“If you do not know, then perhaps he has not explained it to you.” Ulaz moved his hand up to his neck, tapping his finger above his clavicle. “Mating marks are displayed at the base of the throat, near the scent gland. You are his mate, yes?”

“I didn’t know that I was,” Shiro said slowly. “I know we’re dating. Is that like being a mate?”

Ulaz hummed uncertainly. Shiro looked over at Sendak, who met his gaze, then shifted to Shiro’s left, whereupon a look of alarm crossed over his face.

“I believe you should speak with Sendak,” Ulaz said, following his gaze.

“I have a few questions,” Shiro agreed, keeping his tone light.

The look on his face must have betrayed some of what he was feeling, because the moment that Sendak drew close, his ears dropped, flattening against his head before he shook it, forcible raising them. They continued to twitch, even as he ran his fingers along Shiro’s throat, who let him do it without protest.

“Ulaz,” Sendak said in greeting. He sounded pissed.

“Sendak.” Ulaz inclined his head at Shiro.

“Shiro,” Shiro drawled. “Looks like we all know each other’s names.”

Ulaz smiled, while Sendak’s discomfort only grew. The sheer fact that he knew something up was telling, and it didn’t help Shiro’s growing irritation.

“I am glad I was able to meet you,” Ulaz said, addressing Shiro directly. “Have a pleasant evening, Shiro.”

“You, too, Ulaz. Nice meeting you.”

Shiro watched him walk away, and then turned towards the bar, motioning for the bartender to look his way.

“I’ll have something strong,” he told her. “I think I’m gonna need it.”

“Shiro.”

He didn’t immediately turn around.

“Shiro,” Sendak repeated, somewhat pleadingly.

Shiro waited until he received his drink before he spoke.

“When were you going to tell me that I was your mate?” he asked, taking a large gulp of whatever blue substance the bartender had just given him. He barely tasted it.

Sendak’s chest swelled with a sigh that he did not release all at once.

“I was hoping to…avoid this. I suspected that Ulaz would question you once I claimed you were my mate.”

Shiro’s jaw clenched at how readily Sendak admitted he’d essentially lied. And it wasn’t that Shiro was angry. He wasn’t angry at Sendak, because he trusted him, but he felt disappointed, and most importantly: _embarrassed._

All night he’d been wondering why it seemed like the entire room was looking at him, and now he’d been made aware—by someone that he didn’t even _know_ —that he had been ‘mated’, whatever the hell that meant, and he was a freak because he didn’t have some kind of mark.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Shiro snapped. Okay, so maybe he was a little angry.

Sendak lowered himself to Shiro’s height, hesitating with his hand over Shiro’s.

“Not here,” he said. “We should speak in another room. The other members of my—they have well-trained ears.”

Shiro looked behind Sendak. As if on cue, he caught a few galra looking their way, expressions of intrigue on their face.

He nearly said no. A part of him wanted Sendak to have to explain himself in front of all his friends, but the other, larger part knew that he wouldn’t be satisfied with an audience. And he wasn’t angry, really, but he was disappointed to be the last to know about something that sounded important.

“All right,” Shiro said, slipping off the stool. “Lead the way.”

Sendak led him to a room off to the side of the lounge, near the bathrooms. It was a conference room of sorts, with a dozen chairs surrounding a large table. Shiro sat down in the nearest chair and then leveled Sendak with his most unimpressed look.

“So, what _is_ a mate? Did you bind me to you for life without telling me?”

“No,” Sendak said, sounding irritated at the notion. Shiro relaxed marginally, still sipping on his drink. “No, a mate is—it is difficult to explain in your language. It is like a life-partner of your marriage, but we are not bound in such a way. And you are not my mate, technically speaking.”

“Well that clears things up,” Shiro drawled. He raised an eyebrow. “Am I your mate or not?”

“You are in every essence of the word my mate, but I have not marked you. I was…” Sendak licked his lips. “I was not originally going to introduce you as my mate, because we have not established that is something you would wish for.”

He knelt in front of Shiro and took his hands, stroking his large thumbs over Shiro’s knuckles.

“I ended up doing so because I could not imagine introducing you as anything other than the truth.”

“You made that decision all on your own,” Shiro retorted. “You could have asked me, you know. If you had explained it, I probably would have said yes.”

“I was not thinking,” Sendak said, on the cusp of a growl. It wasn’t directed at Shiro. “You cannot understand how it feels—” He stopped himself from saying more, which was likely for the best, and continued in a calmer voice. “You were not aware of this, and you could not have known, but when we met, your scent was already that of a compatible mate.”

Shiro snorted. “So, what, you knew you wanted to date me because of the way I smelled?”

“Essentially.” Sendak smiled wryly. “It does not ensure success, but it does speak of our compatibility. I knew that I wanted you then, as a potential mate, and my hunch proved correct. You are perfect, Shiro, and my enjoyment of you has only grown.”

“Almost as if we’re in a relationship or something,” Shiro bit out, unable to keep the irritation out of his voice. He knew he was being insensitive, but he could hardly believe that Sendak had boldly declared some kind of undying love in front of his coworkers and didn’t bother to tell him.

“As I said, I had not planned to make the declaration tonight. I said it rashly.” Sendak sighed. “I should have spoken with you first.”

“You should’ve,” Shiro said, followed by hiccup. He looked at his empty glass and realized that he was pretty tipsy from that alone. He pointed the glass at Sendak. “For the record, I would absolutely be your mate. If you’d asked. When I’m fully sober, we are having this conversation again. Sidenote: whatever the bartender gave me, I want more of it. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t even notice if I got drunk off this.”

“I believe that is enough,” Sendak said, taking his glass from him.

Shiro pouted, reaching for his glass, but Sendak held it aloft, just out of his reach. While Shiro was struggling to grab it out of his hands, it occurred to him that he knew exactly what he should say.

In that instant, it seemed obvious.

“But _daddy,”_   he started, “I wasn’t—”

The moment it left his mouth Shiro stopped, eyes going saucer-wide. His mouth hung open, words he'd been about to say left hanging on his tongue.

Sendak, meanwhile, had froze, still as stone. His shoulders formed a solid, intimidating line.

Parts of Shiro’s brain were screaming at him to play it off as a joke—which he would attempt to do, once he wasn’t so horrified—but what with the way Sendak was staring at him, it told him that he wasn’t going to get off that easy.

“I meant—god,” Shiro tried, waveringly. His face was on fire. “Haha! I have no clue where that came from. Wow.”

He cleared his throat. Sendak stared at him, and when he spoke, his voice was low, his words even.

“Say that again.”

Shiro swallowed, fisting his hands in his lap. He said nothing, so Sendak knelt in front of him, taking his chin in hand, and looked him in the eyes.

“Say it again.”

Sendak didn’t look angry, or disgusted, or any of the things Shiro had expected of him. If anything, he sounded…interested.

It was the only reason that Shiro felt the courage to speak again, his heart pounding so hard he felt dizzy.

“I was going to say I wasn’t finished.”

“That is not all you said.” Sendak sounded stern, and Shiro couldn’t help the way his eye-lids fluttered shut in reply.

“No,” he answered.

“No, what?”

Shiro sagged into his grip, breathing out the air in his lungs through his nose, all but whispering the words into the warm air between them.

“No, daddy.”

“Good boy.”

At that, Shiro couldn’t contain his quiet, contented sigh. It felt like breathing a breath of fresh air. It felt like something slotted into place that had been missing.

It felt _right._

Sendak kissed him in the way he always did, claiming his mouth like it was a prize worth taking. When Shiro was trembling from the effects of the alcohol in his system and the depth of the kiss, only then did he pull away.

“We should leave,” Sendak said.

“Why?” Shiro asked, despite himself. “We got here just a while ago.”

“I want to fuck you,” Sendak replied unabashedly. “And I have done you a disservice in the way I treated you tonight. Our members are nosy, and they will not stop gossiping until the night is through. Plus, they will be able to smell your arousal, just as I do now.”

“You can smell that?” Shiro opened his eyes. “The only thing I smell is your cologne.”

“I’ll have you here, if you’d prefer,” Sendak growled in his ear, dragging his lips over his jaw and nipping at his throat. Shiro bore it willingly, nearly whining when Sendak abruptly pulled away to face someone who had entered the room.

It was the woman from earlier, Krolia. There was something about her face that Shiro couldn’t pinpoint, and he didn’t have the sense to give it much thought, not when Sendak was tugging him to his feet and telling her to let the others know they had left early.

“Had a little too much to drink?” she asked, eyeing Shiro warily. He was only tipsy, but he hiccupped again, which seemed to convince her. “All right, then I’ll see you tomorrow bright and early, Sendak. We’ve got work to do.”

“Of course,” Sendak said smoothly.

They left quietly, slipping through the side-doors and heading for Sendak’s car. His driver was alerted beforehand, so all they had to do was get in, and then they were headed home.

They didn’t talk about what Shiro had said during the drive, which Shiro was glad for. He focused instead on kissing Sendak, crawling onto his lap and shoving his tongue in his mouth. Sendak gripped his hips and ground up into him, thrusting the heavy weight of his cock up against Shiro’s pelvis.

They fell through the apartment doors. Or rather, Shiro clung to Sendak while he attempted to open the doors, which led to him bodily hoisting him up against the wall, growling in his face. Shiro only laughed, kissing him soundly on the mouth.

At some point between the door and the hallway leading to Sendak’s room, Shiro had shred off his jacket and pants, leaving him in a shirt with half the buttons undone. Then, because it seemed like a great idea at the time, he broke free of Sendak’s hold and made a mad dash for his bedroom. He didn’t expect Sendak to follow, and he would later theorize that him running triggered some kind of primal response, because the moment he started sprinting he felt Sendak follow right behind him, hot on his heels.

Shiro had barely made it to the bed before Sendak tackled him onto it. Shiro giggled as Sendak shoved his nose into his neck, hands trying to push him away in futile.

“Ooh,” Shiro cooed, giggling even harder, “big scary galra. What are you gonna do?”

He received a low growl in reply. Sendak thrust his thighs apart and inserted himself in between them. He nipped lightly at Shiro’s throat; a threatening gesture that did little to dissuade Shiro from pulling him closer.

“Come on, fuck me.”

“You are inebriated.”

“Barely.” Shiro leaned back and exposed his throat, biting on the edge of his knuckle. He blamed the alcohol on his next words, something he would have never felt so free saying any other time. “What, is daddy afraid?”

“I am not afraid,” Sendak said, pausing to lick at his jaw. “But I will have you be certain this is what you want.”

“What I _want_ is for you to fuck me.” Shiro thrust his hips upward, trying to create some friction. Sendak captured his mouth in a kiss, rolling his hips into Shiro’s. They kept going like that for a while, kissing and thrusting against each other. Shiro’s arousal came in slow, warm waves, his breath stuttering out when Sendak grabbed his waist and started thrusting harder.

“Come _on,”_   Shiro whined. “Fuck me, please. _Please.”_

Sendak pulled back and stared at him contemplatively, and Shiro realized what he wanted him to say. He lifted his chin.

“Please, daddy? For me?” Throwing caution to the wind, he bit his lip and added, “You said I was good. Don’t I deserve it?”

Sendak shuddered like Shiro’s words had touched something deep within him, a low, dangerous sound erupting from his chest. Then he shook himself and started removing his clothing.

“Yes,” Sendak said, once his jacket had been shed and his shirt was coming off, “you were very good, Shiro. You are always good. So very good.”

He wrestled with his pants for a moment before deciding it apparently wasn’t worth the trouble and ripped right through them with ease. Shiro made an appreciative sound.

When Sendak went to roll on the condom, Shiro plucked it out of his hand and tossed it to the side. Sendak raised a brow and Shiro smiled innocently, lifting his hips up off the bed.

“I want to feel you come inside me,” he said. “I wanna feel daddy’s big cock.”

“You will have it,” Sendak declared wholeheartedly. He stroked himself to full hardness, the ridges on his cock already starting to flare, evidence of how much he was enjoying himself. Shiro eyed them hungrily, pulling his legs towards his chest and exposing his ass. Without a condom in the way, he'd feel it even more. He'd feel Sendak—his daddy—even more. 

He shivered when Sendak pressed lube-slicked fingers inside him. He didn’t know if it was the alcohol playing tricks on him, but Sendak smelled _really_ good; even more so than usual. His scent seemed to clog Shiro’s nose, a smell so powerful that he felt like he was breathing him in with every inhale.

"You smell so good right now," Shiro breathed. "Have I ever told you that I _love_ your cologne?"

"Once or twice." Sendak smirked, burying three fingers inside him.

By the time he was prepped, his cock was leaking and he was clinging to Sendak’s shoulders, sniffing at his throat, making soft, injured sounds each time Sendak’s fingers brushed up against his prostate.

Sendak entered him slowly, grinding the thickest of the ridges in Shiro until he was sobbing from the pressure, taking handfuls of the sheets in hopes it would ground him. Then, once Sendak was fully inside, he began fucking him with tight, controlled snaps of his hips, his hands holding Shiro still while he thrust into him.

“My mate,” Sendak rumbled, nosing at his throat. “Would you like that, Shiro? Being my mate.”

“Is that even a question at this point?” Shiro joked, his words cut off as Sendak thrust into him viciously. “I love—I’d love it.” He threw his head back, taking advantage of Sendak’s possessive nature. “Your mate. All yours.”

He repeated the phrase a few more times, and each time Sendak grew more desperate, nearly bending Shiro in half while he fucked him. His knot was thick and wide at the base of his cock, pressing up into Shiro.

Sendak shoved his cock as deep as he could, letting out a frustrated growl as his knot met Shiro’s rim.

“Knot me,” Shiro urged, desperate for it. “Knot me, daddy. Knot me, _please_ knot me.”

Sendak groaned low in his throat, rocking his knot against Shiro’s rim. It felt huge, the pressure alone driving little bolts of pain up Shiro’s spine.

“I want nothing more than to knot you,” Sendak said, with a note of regret. “And when I do—” he cradled Shiro’s head, still rocking into him, “—that is when I will mate you. Here.” He ran his fingers along the base of Shiro’s throat. “It will scar beautifully, and then you will be _mine.”_

He finished his words off with a growl. Shiro skin buzzed pleasantly where Sendak was touching him. He dug his heels into Sendak’s back, trying to drive the knot deeper inside him. He knew it wouldn’t happen tonight, but when felt the stretch of Sendak’s knot starting to enter him, driving his cock even deeper, he moaned and stroked himself rapidly, chasing the sensation. The ridges on Sendak’s cock were practically made to drive him crazy, and his stomach covered in precome was a testament to this. More slipped over his fingers and dribbled onto his stomach as Sendak began to edge away, dragging his cock back and forth slowly, more for Shiro’s benefit than anything.

“You are close,” Sendak said, sounding fascinated.

“Yeah,” Shiro replied distractedly, working his thumb under the head of his cock, pressing into the sensitive part. His thighs twitched and tensed, his orgasm imminent and fast approaching. “Really close. Fuck, _yes.”_

“Yes?” Sendak’s voice was expectant. Shiro’s eyes flickered up to look at him, his last thread of shame dissipating when he shoved his cock to the hilt and Shiro started to come.

“Yes,” he cried, clamping his thighs tight around Sendak’s waist while he rode it out, a soft, lilting moan tumbling from his mouth. "Yes, daddy."

He grunted a few times, the motion of his hips slowing, made immovable by Shiro’s iron grip. With the pressure and heat of Shiro tight and pulsing around him, it didn’t take long for him to follow. Shiro could feel his knot swell to an impossible degree as he started pumping his ass with come.

Shiro had never been with someone where he could actually _feel_ it. First the ridges flared, expanding inside him, trying to do what he assumed was lock him in place, and then he started to come. It was warm and thick, and Shiro soon became aware of how uncomfortably full he was starting to feel. A part of him still wished for the knot, knowing that he’d be plugged up for an indeterminable amount of time while Sendak came more and more…

Sendak kissed him, breaking him free of the fantasy, and Shiro hummed into his mouth, face framed by Sendak’s warm hands. The kiss was soft and sweet, and Sendak pressed another on either of his flushed cheeks. Then he lowered his head and started scenting him, nosing his throat while he continued to come.

“Thank you, daddy,” Shiro said, his voice still husky, rough from the effects of his orgasm. Then, because Sendak was being so sweet to him, and he couldn’t help it, he asked, “Was I good?”

“You are well aware how pleased I am by you,” Sendak purred. “So very good for me. I knew you would be the perfect mate the moment I set eyes on you.”

Shiro sighed with pleasure, leaning into his embrace. Sendak was pleased; Shiro had been good. It was everything he'd been craving, even if he barely understood it himself.

Eventually, Sendak pulled out, followed by a ridiculous amount of come.

“I hate this part,” Shiro said, reaching down to prod at his hole. “God, you come so _much.”_

“Liar. You like it.” Sendak stroked himself a few times, his hand still wrapped firmly around his knot. He wasn’t coming anymore, but his dick was still twitching, enjoying the pressure while his knot was still inflated. “I cannot wait until I am able to knot you. We will have you well prepared beforehand.”

“Me neither.” Shiro sighed, throwing himself back onto the pillows. The bed was soft, and he felt well-fucked and sleepy. Any longer like that and he probably would have started to doze, but he still had questions.

“About the whole—daddy thing,” Shiro began, cracking one eye open. Sendak stared at him, and he tried not to flush at the intensity of his gaze. “Is that—for you, what does that mean?”

“You are asking if I want to be a parental figure to you. The answer is no.” Sendak released his knot and sat back, regarding Shiro carefully. “I am aware of the connotations, but for me it is more about the exchange of power.”

“Power?”

“It allows for a certain sense of control over the situation.” He moved to Shiro’s side, stroking his palm down Shiro’s thigh. “You are vulnerable when you fall into your desires. You put so much trust in me, Shiro, and that arouses me. Very much so.”

“Huh.” It did sound pretty hot when he put it that way. “It’s less weird when you say it like that. I’ve never had a—whatever this is.”

 “A father?” Sendak said, lips curling up in amusement. He was joking, but Shiro played along, pitching his voice higher.

“A _daddy,”_   he said sweetly.

Sendak crawled overtop him and pressed down, putting his weight on Shiro without crushing him. He liked the feeling of being pressed into the bed, so even though he knew that he needed to take a shower and clean up the mess they'd made, he wrapped his limbs around Sendak’s torso, burying his face in the thick fur, and relaxed.

It was nice. Wonderful. Shiro wanted to stay like that forever, encased in Sendak's warmth and basking in the afterglow. He'd never felt this good—this  _safe_ with anyone before, and he wanted Sendak to know that. If he'd had the brain power, he might have articulated it better, but instead, he simply rubbed his cheek in his fur and said:

"Mm, I love you." 

He was barely aware of the words leaving his mouth, already asleep by the time Sendak had taken a moment to absorb what he'd said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really self-indulgent. To the point that it's bad? Probably. I don't know how to end fics I am Sorry. It's sort of set up for the next one (assuming anyone wants that).


End file.
